Fanged Innocence: Story of a Werewolf
by User 503632
Summary: Warning:Slash. Set during the days the Marauders ravaged the halls of Hogwarts. Remus Lupin is going through something horribly awkward, how is Sirius involved? What happens when the sixteen year old werewolf befriends Lily Evans? Jealousy anyone?
1. Chapter One

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Note from the Author: 

This fiction is rated '**R**' for **violence**, **sexual content **and occasional **language**. It should be to the reader's understanding prior to reading that it will contain **slash** (or **homosexual**) themes. I do not take responsibility for readers who find offense to these, and all flames due to reckless neglect of reading the aforementioned will be used to warm my hands. Thank you.

I do not own Harry Potter. I am sure I have made some unintentional minor alteration due to memory loss. However, this story will **not **change the future of the books. This is more of my own whimsical spin on a prequel.

For example, I could never write that Lily Evans was raped by Severus Snape to the point of death after being inebriated beyond all reason at one of those Slytherin sex parties that Draco/Snape fans always like to write about, because then she could have never have conceived Harry. So do not expect anything like that to occur.

Important: I do know that Dumbledore was most likely not the headmaster when the Marauders were in school. In the memory Tom Riddle's diary showed Harry, he named a "Headmaster Dibitt". For purposes of this story, plain preference, and lack of the motivation of looking it up in the books, Dumbledore was and is the headmaster of Hogwarts. 

Prove me wrong and you still get nothing, so you lose.

Fanged Innocence: Story of a Werewolf 

Chapter One

Autumn had found its way to Hogwarts before anyone had expected that year. The air had cooled down enough to discourage many who dwelled within the stony walls to continue venturing outdoors. Gryffindor scarlet and gold splotched the trees of the forbidden forest and dusted the leaf-covered grounds.

The opening of Quidditch season was just around the corner, as could be seen by the continual preening of the pitch and James Potter's ever increasing restlessness. From time to time, students claimed to have spotted the giant squid splashing about in the waters of the lake, obviously finding the climate change very disagreeable.

Contrary to his classmates, Remus Lupin could be found savagely scratching onto parchment under a lone beech tree on one of the aforementioned afternoons, his friends well-occupied near by. 

Those days had become quite different for the sixteen year old werewolf. He suffered from loss of appetite, was distracted easily during classes, and distanced himself from his friends more often than not. Worst of all, sleep had failed Lupin as well. When he did entrap slumber, his dreams were plagued by things that made him feel an awkward mix of horror and excitement all at once. Yet only the feelings remained afterward, like an undesired after-taste. The dreams themselves continued to flee from the grasp of his memory each and every following morning. At least those days he had awoken to familiarity of his own bed...

Remus had discovered that the only outlet of frustration had been scribbling his thoughts on paper, which he happened to be doing on that very day in particular. 

Lupin furrowed his brows in concentration. He brought the point of the quill to his mouth, unconsciously sucking on it before racing it across the page again with more fervor than before.

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Day Twenty Four - Sixth Year

For the third time since I have returned to Hogwarts, I awoke this morning to the feel of damp leaves and sticks prodding into my back. Luckily, I was closer to the school than before. I easily found my way back by spotting the large Quidditch hoops through the trees. However, this morning was awfully different from the other two...

Lupin paused to read over what he had just written. Pleased with himself and incredibly unnerved about what he was about to account, he continued with a small sigh.

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As I walked through the thinning forest the light grew brighter and brighter. I could start to make out the colors of the trees and...and then I noticed it. There was blood smeared over my hands. I was overwrought with panic and didn't know what to do. 

Perhaps I am transforming uncontrollably without the full moon! How could that possibly happen? Has it ever happened before? 

I ran up to the castle (luckily no one was awake yet), taking the stone stairs of Gryffindor tower by twos until I reached the common room. 

The fat lady was snoozing quietly when I arrived, and when I roused her to give the password she took one lazy look at me before screaming in utter terror. It took me some time to subdue her, and after she reluctantly let me inside, with extreme difficulty on my part, I raced through the common room, and right into the boys dormitory. I drew the bed hangings about the bed and spent the remainder of the morning there sobbing like a little girl, thanks to the silencing charm.

It wasn't until after I was sure everyone had cleared out for breakfast that I left the safety and comfort of my bed. Padfoot had left reluctantly knowing that I wasn't up, but was pushed through the dormitory door before he had the chance to do anything about it by James, who was exceedingly grumpy after being shoved out of bed. Wormtail agreed, convincing him I had looked like "shit" lately and probably needed sleep anyhow. Did I really look so bad that my friends had noticed? 

But anyway, that's when I made my move. I padded into the bathroom and turned the shower on. When I glanced into the mirror the sight makes me shudder with disgust in memory alone. I had blood smeared across my otherwise pale face. My eyes were a dull grey, a bit red and puffy from crying with circles underneath. That combined with the forest floor matted into my normally light-coloured hair produced an alarming effect. No wonder the fat lady had been so horrified. Needless to say, I had scrubbed myself raw in the shower, leaning against the wall as I sobbed again. Pathetic, right? I know. 

Only a select few even know I'm a werewolf as it is; the people who I can depend on for help are limited. 

Suppose the blood on my hands was human? No, no...I mustn't think that. But what if? I would be thrown out of Hogwarts silently, without any known reason to the students and most of the faculty. It would be far too dangerous to keep an unpredictable werewolf at a school full of young students, no no. Even then, Dumbledore couldn't very well make public that under his direction he allowed a "filthy flea-bag" to endanger the lives of-

It didn't even registered to Lupin that someone was shouting out to him until his journal was violently knocked out of his lap and replaced with a warm, panting body. Releasing a yelp of surprise, Lupin glanced down only to meet the sight of a mop of black hair with a hint of scowling blue eyes underneath.

"Sirius, you arsehole! You almost hit Moony with that last one!" James Potter hadn't bothered to move, but glared playfully at a laughing figure off in the distance. Standing up, James clutched the quaffle to his chest with one hand while he brushed himself off with the other. "Sorry about that, Rem," he said as he flashed the silent werewolf a rueful grin. Remus shook his head and smiled a small smile to himself, quickly forgetting his previous feelings of dread and impending doom.

"Lighten up, mate. No real harm done," Sirius laughed, rapidly approaching towards the two.

"Yeah, Prongs," added Peter Pettigrew, following the long-haired Gryffindor to his left. However, James was having none of that. 

"Remember what we _talked_ about at breakfast?" he said while keeping his mouth perfectly linear. James looked pointedly at Sirius, as if trying to give him a message via eye contact. It appeared to work, for Sirius' gaze landed on Lupin, then back to James. Needless to say, Lupin was left quite in the dark.

"Tell 'im about how you snagged the Slytherin practice quaffle, Prongs!" Peter had interrupted whatever moment Sirius and James were having, bringing them back to Earth. A smug smile quickly spread across his features as he looked at James with utter adoration. James seemed to find this suggestion very agreeable, for he grinned immediately, running a hand through his already untidy hair. 

Sirius rolled his eyes and sat down on the cold, hard ground next to Lupin as James began to tell his story. Lupin found himself shaking his head several times during the tale towards the blatant disregard for the rules.

"..and then!" James paused to laugh boisterously. There was a big goofy smile on Peter's face, Lupin, disgusted, doubted his eyes could get any bigger with unadulterated adoration. "...and then...and then that great fool Abernethy came out, nearly starkers. His wand was pointing right at me and Donald McQuillan, underneath the invisibility cloak, of course. I nearly gave us away, almost died laughing, and Donald was about to bloody well wet his-"

"Hey Moony," Sirius interrupted, to James' extreme annoyance and Peter's protests. He continued, ignoring the two, "What's this?" Lupin could feel the colour leave his face as he slowly glanced towards Sirius' direction. Sure enough, Sirius sat, back against the trunk of the beech tree, leafing through his journal as if it were a poorly written romance novel. A positively stupid smile, graced his dark features.

"Wait! That's mine!" he cried out. With a surge of fear, Lupin made a move for the leather bound book, but the raven-haired Gryffindor would have none of that. Sirius tossed it easily to his other hand, arm outstretched away from the werewolf. He grinned boyishly as Remus became increasingly frustrated, observing his reactions intently. 

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The prat! he thought to himself, glaring heavily at Sirius _He probably gets perverse pleasure from this. How much did he read? Gods, I hope not much. Oh please oh please oh please oh please..._

Again, Sirius switched hands as the sandy-haired teenager made a more enthusiastic dive for the tattered book.

"Just give it back to him already." James rolled his eyes, sounding bored and still pouting over his interruption. Sirius pushed the journal behind his back, pressed firmly against the tree, and looked up at his friend with what started as a victory smirk and transformed into a gasp.

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Why is he such an...an **arse**?! Lupin had reached his limit. A surge of fury had overcome him. His fists had been clenched until they were almost the white of snow, nails almost bursting the pale skin of his palms. With one angry scoop of his arm, Lupin had the collar of Sirius' blue jumper clasped tightly in his hands. 

Somewhere along the line Lupin had planted himself atop of lightly muscled legs, straddling the hips of a very astounded Sirius. He vaguely heard him gasp, as he violently yanked Sirius' face up towards his own, dark hair flying in disarray. Sirius could feel Lupin's warm, ragged breath fan across his face in puffs, and hear the deep-throated growl emanating from lightly parched lips. Teeth bared, and eyes feral, Remus showed no signs of letting up anytime soon.

"Moony! What the fuck do you think you're doing? Have you gone completely nutters?" James yelled. Peter, behind him, had stepped away in fear.

If embarrassment and rage was what transfigured Remus Lupin into an animalistic state and locked him there, it wasn't his two frightened friends' sharp tugs on his arms, he was beyond feeling those, nor was it their pleas, for they fell on deaf ears. Lupin abdicated his fury only when looking down at Sirius; dark eyes dilated, a flush ravishing his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. Several raven tresses of hair had fallen into his eyes, creating a demure, bewildered picture. Lupin could slowly feel his clenched fists weaken, and anger start to dissolve. Sirius just stared at him blankly, unable to even blink. Lupin glanced down shyly to see the self-compromising way he secured Sirius to him, blushing furiously.

With one particularly sharp pull, Peter and James had successfully forced Remus off of Sirius, causing the werewolf to tumble across the earth, wet leaves clinging to his robes. 

"All right, Padfoot?" James asked quietly, concern evident. He placed one arm firmly on Sirius' shoulder, while he inspected him with his eyes, as if he could professionally tell if there was anything wrong with him. James scowled when he noticed his friend had been ignoring him, distracted with the sight of the disheveled werewolf.

Remus looked as though he wanted to cry again, eyes watered to the brim. His hands were shaking violently as he tenderly brushed the leaves and dirt off of his Gryffindor robes. But when he looked up, Sirius' dark eyes caught his own. It looked as if he was about to say something, but then stopped, unable to get the words out. Frowning, Sirius looked as though he was about to make another attempt, but Lupin, finding the thought very disagreeable, was determined not to listen. Staggering awkwardly to a standing position, he promptly turned and sprinted towards the castle.

It dimly registered to him that James and Sirius were calling out to him, particularly Sirius. Still, he kept running towards his destination, his place of refuge. Not thirty feet in front of the castle doors, he slipped a wet patch of dirt, covering the front of his robes. Clawing the earth frantically, he made his way to a standing positing, reaching his haven indoors. Remus' mind was reeling with an exotic mixture of emotions. Emotions that normally did not mix well, as unacquainted alcohols did. However, the effects produced were not unlike each other, for when he finally reached the moving Gryffindor staircase, Remus Lupin was sure he was going to hurl. So he did. And afterwards, clutched his knees to his chest and cried some more, thanking his lucky stars any students who could have potentially witnessed his state of utter despair and defeat were stuffing their faces at dinner about then.

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"How did you find me?" Remus asked distantly, voice scratchy. Sirius couldn't be sure if it was hoarse from the chilly weather, or crying but if the red rimmed eyes were any indication at all, he assumed the latter. Regardless, the abashed Gryffindor wouldn't have wanted him to know, so he decided to leave it unmentioned...among other things. For some reason, Sirius found it endearing. The fact that Remus was too proud to want Sirius to see him like that, not that he was in the actual state.

"Well," he said, taking a seat on the stone roof next to Remus and kicking his feet over the side, "we mostly just _let_ you think we don't know how you come up here when something's miffing you. Sorry to break it to you, mate, there's little us Marauders haven't seen in this castle. You of _all _people should have known that," Sirius smiled lightly to ease the mood. Lupin released a small, humourless laugh, and turned his attention back to staring at the nothingness of night.

Sirius scowled a bit, before clearing his throat. He knew now that any conversation between the two would be initiated only by him, and rather forced by his moody companion.

"So how have you been, Moony? We don't have many classes together this year, do we?" he began, raising his eyebrow in what he knew produced a devastating effect.

"Hn." …to no avail. Not intending to give up, Sirius continued:

"Well, there's charms with Professor Hollyhock. I must've forgotten about that." Not even a grunt in agreement. Sirius was growing quite agitated, as his patience was waning. Taking in a deep breath of cool air and releasing it, he changed his strategy, "What? Not talking now? The least you could do is talk to me after you nearly mauled me this evening." Bingo. Ears perked up, sand-coloured head whipped around, hands found there way inside of Sirius' inner robes.

"Oh, Padfoot! I didn't mean to, you have to believe me!" Sirius felt his heart clench as the werewolf pleaded with him "I…I don't know what came over me. One minute I was so angry with you, and then I…" Lupin trailed off, eyes downcast. Sirius couldn't help but smile lopsidedly, realizing his emotional friend must've been up there for hours fretting over something that hadn't even bothered him. Well, not in a bad way in any case. 

Lupin glanced up, eyes pleading at first, but then took sight of Sirius' smile and glared, releasing his robes, and turning his head away. "You're making fun of me, aren't you?" he huffed.

"No, no," Sirius laughed, waving his hands for effect. Remus turned his glare back on the raven-haired teenager, "well, partly," he conceded, a constant grin gracing his features. "I just thought it was," he paused, checking his words as Lupin looked at him expectantly, "adorable? Yes," he cleared his throat in a gruff manner, "adorable. How you worry so much over everything, that is. Of course that's what I was referring to." Sirius' manner grew nervous, as he found he couldn't find a place for his hands. In his robes? Maybe in his lap? Could he pull that off? "I mean why would-" One look at Remus told him that he was making a fool of himself. Sirius sighed, "just don't tell Wormtail or Prongs I said it," he started, but then dissatisfied he amended, "Just don't tell **Prongs** I said it."

The werewolf threw his head back and laughed, one of the first genuine laughs Sirius had heard from his friend in a very long time. He knew he would have to ask Lupin questions. Questions that he wouldn't want to answer almost much as Sirius himself didn't want to ask. They had decided at dinner, in light of Lupin's absence that he would be the one to do it.

Sirius was now positive that Lupin had been camping atop the school roof for hours, for he was shivering quite conspicuously. Instinctively, he peeled off his own jacket and laid it across shaking shoulders. Lupin said nothing, only peered at him quizzically.

"You were cold," he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Well, it practically was. "How about we go inside? There's really nothing out here, you know." Lupin shook his head, finding the suggestion disagreeable.

"No, I think I'm going to stay out here. Only for a little longer." Sirius sighed, and wrapped one, strong arm around him, pulling Remus to his side. He faintly could hear the small gasp, or make out the deep flush on the smaller Gryffindor's face through the darkness.

"Let's just hurry up." Needless to say, the two boys lounged lazily atop the stony edifice far past the hour most students were tucked away in their beds.

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Yes, I know. You're probably thinking: "What the hell was that about?" Oh, but it will make sense.

Next Chapter: Lily Evans makes an entrance. Perfect.

Please review. If only to tell me you read it. Anyone who says we write these things for ourselves is telling dreadful lies, feel offended. Writers write for readers to read. Yes, these do pathetically curve how I write. Quit being so lazy; tell me I'm horrible and need to give up


	2. Chapter Two: Pt A

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Warnings: If you haven't figured out that this is a slash story thus far, whether this chapter offends you or not is the least of your problems.

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Les nuits obscures  
Triste je pense  
A tes hauts murs  
Les pierres denses

A tes portes fermées  
Dont je cherche la clé  
Tes frontières, si bien gardées  
Toutes surveillées

Coeur inaccessible  
Larmes invisibles  
Ici, personne

Seulement dans la brume  
Petite lune  
Compagne de mes regrets

Remus Lupin was many things, butgay was **not **one of them. 

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Chapter Two Pt. A

Morning had come as an uninvited guest. Sleep had been kind, but the sweet memory of the night before was finally waning, much to Lupin's displeasure. Sun beamed through stony tower windows and basked the face of the rousing Gryffindor in wonderful warmth. It would be a morning to remember, indeed, he knew somehow. The world could do him no wrong today; he was in love.

Attempting to blink the sleep away, Remus rose, stretching, into a sitting position, inadvertently knocking the thing that had been resting on his lap to the floor with a great _thud_. He glanced around, finding himself among a row of empty beds. They had deserted him again, not that he really minded. He was in a rather agreeable mood.

Remus reached down, hand racing across wooden planks for few moments before making solid contact. _Gotcha. _Pulling the object to his face and squinting, he recognized the brown leather cover immediately. There was plain brown twine across the cover, securing a slip of parchment and a deep purple jumper.

"Yours." the paper simply read. Simple like Sirius? No; anything but. He could almost imagine the gruff, absurdly male voice in his head, making him smile stupidly. 

Pulling off the string almost lovingly, he placed the book under his pillow for safety. The sweater? It was Sirius'. In fact, he recognized it. Lupin unraveled it to lay it flat on his bed, brow knitted together in confusion. Would Sirius give him his sweater; one full of holes to boot. His eyes caught another slip of paper, pinned strategically to the collar.

_I expect you'll have this patched up and in my dresser by tomorrow. Prongs (whose death I'm considering by means of skrewt) spilled the jar of doxy spew that had been collecting dust on Carleson's stand all over it this morning. It's Jeannette Jordan's (the gorgeous blonde Hufflepuff, you know her!) favorite. She said I look like a **god** in it. A god, Moony!_

Lupin frowned darkly at the ink blot there where Sirius had obviously paused to daydream.

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Anyway…I'd charm it up myself but, well, you know what variety of life endangering idea that is. Here's two sickles for your trouble. See you at breakfast. -Padfoot. Lupin blushed against his own will, reading on. _P.S. You were great. Thanks for last night. (wink)_

Well, it seemed things _hadn't _changed between them after all, at least for Sirius, who still had his sense of humour. Well of course Sirius expected he wouldn't have minded, he thought angrily. He never minds, and now Remus was now reduced to a lowly seamster. Glaring at the offending garment, he was overcome by a sudden wave of malevolence. It was so uncharacteristic yet self gratifying, he gave in almost instantly. 

So with a swift flash of his wand and incanting '_incendio!'_, ashes were the only evidence the jumper ever existed. Remus left no note, and pocketed the two sickles.

_Give Jeannette my regard, _he thought with what he would have usually considered childish jealousy. Where had the spite come from? Well, never the matter. He was very pleased with himself, and did not contain himself from whistling as he padded purposefully toward the communal washroom. Remus didn't even give his actions or motives (rather seemingly lack-there-of) any second thought. 

He was in the mood to do something…radical. It was just _that _kind of morning. The air was positively humming with suppressed magic. He felt different, and needed to express the internal changes he had been undergoing for quite some time outwardly. Whether or not it had anything to do with the newly found plateau in his relationship with Sirius at all, he knew nor cared not. 

What Remus Lupin did know, however, was that he did not desire to be the nobody of Hogwarts any longer; the shadow who was fortunate enough to trail after the ever popular James Potter, and renownedly handsome Sirius Black wherever they went like some sort of dog. The irony. 

Even Wormtail, whose blatant adoration for the two (that of which he found disgusting and repulsive) possessed a name that could be recognized by his very own housemates. 

Remus had made a decision, as he looked into the shaggy-haired figure gazing back at him in the mirror. Attempting a new approach, he grinned at himself sexily, eyes gleaming and straight, white teeth bared. Not bad, but oh so obviously not him. 

He seemed to have come to the same conclusion for he shook his head at his own antics and looked away, embarrassed. Well, it was better to try to not be something he wasn't. Attractive? Glancing shyly at the mirror once more, he settled for a warm smile.

"Hello, Remus Lupin." It wasn't exactly the shocking effect he was going for, but it would have to do. He had other things to attend to. "Now this won't hurt at all, trust me. _Accio Scissors!_"

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"Thank Merlin its Saturday," grunted James Potter, shoveling eggs and toast into his mouth.

"Well I'm glad to hear you feel that way, Prongs," said Sirius, sitting opposite to him, polishing off own meal. "I would've figured you to be sore after Evans turned you down for Honeydukes."

"Again," McQuillan, to James' right, added, not even lifting his eyes from the Daily Prophet. Sirius laughed, right on cue. 

"If I were you, _David_, I'd shut my mouth before my wand finds itself up your-" he trailed off, eyes widened. "Bloody hell_…_"

"You'd what?" Davie's attention lifted to the figure sitting down with natural grace to the left of Peter, who was too busy stuffing his face to notice anything peculiar. "_Oh_."

"What's all this about?" The long-maned Gryffindor arched his brow, peering about, feeling left out for once. He was becoming quite agitated, until his vision connected with the object that held nearly half the Gryffindor table's attention.

There, ignoring the eyes, of some fifty curious Gryffindors, sat none other than Remus Lupin. His formerly shoulder-length, mop had been reduced to well, almost nothing compared to its former mess. Sand colored hair framed his head in rebellious, battling tresses that would've made James Potter either proud or envious. To Sirius, Remus looked…well, he looked surprising for starters! 

One could actually see the clear, grey eyes, and the formerly hidden masculine jaw line. The inhabiting muscles led the eyes onto a curved trail down his neck, where porcelain skin was now exposed. His school robes had been discarded, and replaced with neat, casual garments that appealed to the sensory of sight. Sirius couldn't help himself from gawking openly, as the sixteen year old werewolf took a small bite out of his toast, appearing successfully oblivious to the stares.

"Moony! What did you do to yourself?" Leave it to James Potter to be the first to break the spell without any thought at all. Lupin didn't even pause, as he continued to munch on the toast, almost thoughtfully.

"I cut my hair."

"Well, yeah, we see that," James started cautiously, unsure for once of how to treat this stranger; the unknown facet of Remus Lupin. "Why the sudden change? I mean, you look different, Rem, _real _different," at that Sirius muttered something incoherent, "but this is so…"

"Abrupt?" supplied Davie.

"Yes!"

"I like it." Remus had to contain himself from glancing over at Sirius' reaction, the only one he found himself really caring to see. Somewhere to the right he could hear a set of twin, feminine giggles, making him involuntarily blush. Lydia Labelle and Maple Meribrook were seventh years. It seemed his friends weren't the only ones who had noticed his self-alterations. 

"Moony." Sirius had finally uttered a coherent noise, suddenly desperate to get his attention for some unknown reason and successfully because Remus' large grey eyes were now focused only on him.

"Mr. Lupin, may I please have a word with you?" Swiftly turning around and the interruption, his eyes made contact with twinkling blue. "That is, unless you haven't finished breakfast?" It was rare for Dumbledore to arrange his own meetings with students, and even rarer to do so during a meal. Brushing the few crumbs off of his jumper, he stood.

"No, Professor. I'm done. To your office?" Remus stole a glance to gage Sirius' reaction, and had to contain himself from smiling with unadulterated mirth. There was no question about it, the handsome Gryffindor was brooding!

As if aware of this situation, which was completely improbable, the headmaster added: "Don't worry, Mr. Black. Remus will return in time for Dueling Club."

Remus couldn't help but to look at Sirius and want to throw him on the breakfast table in front of everyone and ravish his mouth passionately, claiming him for his own. At that very instant, he wanted to kiss that pouting lip away, and stroke the scowling brow with calloused fingertips. He wanted to scream his feelings away. He knew they were wrong, and didn't understand why he had them. There was something seriously wrong with him. Gods, how could he think about Sirius _that _way?

"Mr. Lupin?" there was that damn twinkle again, as if Professor Dumbledore had been tapping into his thoughts. He wondered briefly if the old man in front of him was some sort of dirty thought voyeur, reading the minds of hormonal teenagers but quickly banished the thought, berating himself. This was someone who had done so much for him; someone who had allowed him to remain at Hogwarts when he wasn't sure where or who to turn to. Was he going mad?

"Yes, sir. Coming." Even with the previous psychotic arguments he had had with himself, nothing could restrain Remus Lupin from winking saucily at a certain uncomfortable Gryffindor over his shoulder as he left.

"Who was that?" James Potter arched his brow, teasingly at his best friend. He didn't quite understand the exchange, but it didn't stop him from meddling like any responsible friend.

"I don't know."

"Have you talked to him about-you know- yet?" asked Wormtail, glaring at the retreating form of the werewolf.

"POTTER! You spilled my spew? My Grandmother gave that to me! I'm going to hex you into oblivion, someone hold me back!" 

At least the morning was shaping up. A lopsided grin was forming on Sirius' face already.

  


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The headmaster's office. It wasn't exactly an unfamiliar place for the Gryffindor square. Remus Lupin was well acquainted with several of the paintings on the walls, but there was always one in particular…

"If it isn't the werewolf. Alone this time? My disgrace of a great grandson isn't here, with his wild-haired friend? Or what about that plump mousy boy? I always knew you were trouble. Was horrified when Dumbledore made you prefect, I was. Where are your school robes!?"

"That will be all, Phineas. Remus isn't here to be interrogated," The portrait continued muttering on about a 'most ancient and noble house of Black' and 'flea bags running the halls of Hogwarts'. The headmaster gave Remus an apologetic smile, as he sat into his chair behind the cluttered desk. "Would you like some tea?"

"No, Sir," he said quietly, glancing up from the spot on his shoes he had been focusing on. Regardless of what he had said, there was a cup and saucer waiting on the desk in front of him when he looked up, so he did not refuse a second time. The tea had a soothing quality on him, as the warmth slid down his throat. He almost melted into his chair. 

Remus knew why he was there. Dumbledore had found out about his 'problem'. He sighed inwardly. He knew it had been only a matter of time before he figured it out.

"Remus," he started, suddenly looking very old and sad to Lupin. "Before we talk, I must ask you: is there anything you would like to tell me?" Yes and you already know that, he wanted to scream.

"Sir, with all respect, I think we both know why I'm here, and it isn't to compliment me on my haircut." When did his voice start hitching like? Tears stung his eyes, but he would not cry. Surely Dumbledore had noticed, yet his smile did not waver.

"Well, now that you mention it, it is very becoming on you, Remus, indeed. But yes, you're right. That is not why I've called you here." Suddenly Remus didn't know what he was doing anymore. Everything came flooding out at once as if he were a bursting dam.

"I couldn't help it, I swear! I didn't mean to hurt anyone. I just woke up and then…and then…I was in the forest, and there was blood. I can't help it, I can't help it, I can't," Remus found he couldn't stop himself. It must've been the tea. "Please don't expel me, oh please. I promise, I'll take a draught every night to remain awake if I have to. Just don't send me away." The tears were now flowing freely down his face, as he pleaded with the man who for maybe the first time, looked taken aback. If ever, Remus Lupin was frightened then.

"I had no idea it was this severe. Remus, this may very well be my fault," Dumbledore adverted his gaze to one of the many snoozing portraits. "Perkins," suddenly a wizard with a short beard and a round face, looked up, startled. "Please find whatever is delaying Filius"

"Professor-" Before Remus could say anything there was a sharp knock at the door.

"Never mind, that must be Professor Flitwick," he smiled reassuringly at Lupin, "Do come in, Professor."

"Sir, I brought the books you asked for," squeaked the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher carrying a pile of books and papers that exceeded his own height.

"Very good. Sit down, Filius" Dumbledore turned to Remus, "I hope you don't mind, I've told him about your 'circumstances', I felt it was quite necessary. Professor Flitwick has my complete confidence, I'm sure you know." At that Flitwick turned to Remus Lupin, as if he had just noticed his presence, and said his hellos before turning his complete attention back to Dumbledore.

"Well, Sir. It was hard to find anything specifically on Mr. Lupin's case. It's just so rare, rather unheard of you might say." Flitwick seemed almost enthusiastic as he opened a book and pointed at something as if it were proof of his claim.

"That's what I was afraid." Remus was becoming increasingly frustrated.

"Sir, with all due respect, what's going on?" Before Dumbledore could say anything, the DADA professor intervened.

"It's simply astounding! We can't be completely sure yet, but you're going through puberty!" He exclaimed as if it was the most wonderful thing in the world.

"What!?" Remus couldn't help but look at the elfish man as if he were completely bonkers, which in his eyes, he was. Glancing frantically over to Dumbledore, he received a solemn nod. "You've _got_ to be kidding me."

"No, it's true."

"But…but I've already gone through it, trust me," he said dangerously serious, as if he were about to whip out the proof right in front the two.

"No, no. We believe you. We're talking about werewolf puberty," there was that strange gleam in his eyes again.

"What!? But that still doesn't explain anything. For example, why is it so rare? Don't all werewolves go through this 'puberty' then?" Flitwick looked at Lupin as if he had been offended greatly.

"Don't you know _anything_ about your kind, Remus?!" The petite professor glanced frantically at the headmaster as if awaiting an explanation. Needless to say, Dumbledore looked thoroughly amused. Sighing aloud as if it were some great inconvenience to him, Flitwick began from the beginning.

Remus listened to Flitwick talk animatedly and in full detail about everything he had known and read up on within the last few days. Every so often the headmaster would add in a 'yes' or a 'most definitely'. 

At first Remus was appreciative at the fact that his professor seemed unaffected towards this newly found dangerous side of Remus, yet was starting to feel the exact opposite as Flitwick paused his lesson to go off into a tangent about how he would find it quite agreeable to witness an actual transformation every so often. Regardless, Remus listened (which started out with rapt interest, and ended in utter humiliation and dread.)

"So…what you're saying is," he started, looking to Dumbledore for support, "that when the person who bit me, made me into what I am…they were breaking some sort of 'were-code'?"

"Precisely!"

"You see, Mr. Lupin. What made your case so… conditioned, was the very fact that werewolves do not by instinctual ethics prey on children."

"So why am I so special?" For the second time since Remus had ventured into his office, Dumbledore looked very sad.

"That, I am afraid, I do not know the answer to." Remus was completely dumbfounded. There were things the old wizard sitting before him did not know? Speaking of which.

"How did you know, then? About me, that is…" Filius Flitwick looked insulted on the headmaster's behalf.

"Oh come, you students believe us to be so clueless, when in fact, it's the other way around."

"Here, here!"

"Phineas, please do not make matters worse," he admonished the portrait, and then turned to the fairy-like professor, "and Filius, Mr. Lupin is _not_in trouble. I feel I can not stress that enough." Strangely, Remus did feel better.

"Sir, I still don't understand." There were so many holes in Professor Flitwick's explanation, Remus didn't even know where to begin.

"I've told you all I know. I'm afraid we can't help you any further if you don't do the same." Flitwick rested a hand on his shoulder as some sort of sign of support or comradeship.

He didn't want to. He had a bad feeling settling itself square into his gut. Regardless, Remus Lupin took a deep breath and started from the beginning.

In the end the forbidden forest had remained just that: strictly forbidden. For some reason lost onto him, it was unbearable and horribly unacceptable. He knew there would be deviation that night, he could feel it.

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"Moony! You're late! You completely missed duels altogether. Hell, you should've seen it! Sirius got smacked right on his arse when Abernethy caught him day dreaming. Probably about that Hufflepuff goddess," said James in a blur of nouns and verbs. "I was just about to leave. I've got the pitch booked for the team. We're going to kick some Ravenclaw arse tomorrow! Wow, I just can't get used to actually seeing your face. Bloody amazing!" Remus always found it amazing how James spoke.

"I know, I know. Prongs,"

"I hate to say it, mate, but you're not half bad to look at," he smiled slyly at the blushing werewolf. "In fact heard Hilde say she would-"

"Prongs!" Finally, silence.

"What's wrong, Moony?" James' face was the epitome of concern.

"I need you to do something for me."

"Sure, anything for you. You know that."

Next Chapter, Pt. B: Being a hormonal teenager is bad enough, just you wait. Lily Evans, as promised. Poor, poor James.

Well, this wasn't much better than the last chapter, as for the making sense part. I abhor it. This was completely below par.

I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed on the previous chapter, and hopefully putting up with this one. This includes: **Hannio**, **canon slave**, **elmtree**, **lil_chick**, **Uzumaki-sama**, **Doctor Zosfmov**, **Ronda-Silverpaw**, **Onca**, **Emma Lupin**, **JVanilly**,** Xellas**, **dead desire**, and the "hey" and "me" reviewers. 

At about three thousand words I already knew this chapter was going to have to be divided into two separate parts.

Plus, I'm rather sadistic and enjoy torturing Remus, however, I'm fully expecting the tables to turn somewhere around the next chapter. We'll see. He might even do a little torturing of his own, if you know what I mean. By the way, I did **not **write the poem above.

****

Special thanks to: Canon slave and the "me" reviewer for setting me straight.


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